Ninety-Ninth Entry

The excitement is high as I reach the one hundred poems mark, I'm sure.

Actually it took a hell of a lot longer than it should to get to one hundred poems. But what am I saying? I might die tonight! Boy would that look foolish.

I'm unhappy to tell you that today I had my first difficulties in completing my poem. Hopefully I'll shrug this off and keep up my pace. I think I will.

Preparing things for the mother of all poetry readings, AN EVENING WITH THE DICK PIG REVIEW. It is going to be a hell of a lot of fun.

Here's my poem:

UMBRELLA

Can't tell what animal is wearing human clothes.
Got your note. I'm going to sleep in the attic
which we constructed inside a box in the cellar.
The windows shimmer with weather,
and I cling to my little sweater.

I held the phone to my ear, anticipating the tone,
knowing the loneliness of the late-night operator.
I could see the single light on in her office,
the massive switchboard, muttering low with
clandestine behavior. I need you to sit
on the edge of the bed in your underwear
while I dial.

I tripped in the park, a deep puddle,
suddenly I was drowning, my bubble mouth
emptied, there was a green light underneath
the rocks, but I decided to swim to the bottom
and hold my breath.

My parents finally gave me what I wanted.
Now it is morning, and rain snuck in
through the window, blessing all the sheets
with cold, it didn't leave my body the way
the arrow did, and I stayed prone as an animal
until someone cleaned me off.